


Ricochet

by suyari



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Drunk Sex, Hansencest - Freeform, M/M, Sibling Incest, Vladivostok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:54:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2134449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suyari/pseuds/suyari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hansens relocate to Vladivostok. Kaiju they can handle. The winter weather is an entirely different matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ricochet

Russia is fucking cold. It’s the first thing that strikes Scott the moment they touch down in Vladivostok. It’s cold in a way he was entirely unprepared for. Unlike the absolutely frigid freeze your balls off slowly so the only way you know they’re gone is when you trip over them kind of cold he’s gotten used to in Alaska, the cold of Russia is abrasive. It’s as if the entire country decided to close ranks and keep the Kaiju from their shores through the sheer force of breathe wrong and you’ll die of crystallized shards in your lungs, impossibly ridiculous and absolutely stupidly unreasonable cold as all fuck did you know your cornea could collect frost deadly freeze. Frankly, he had no idea why they needed a Shatterdome with posted Jaegers in the only natural climate that could likely rival Australia in Nature wants you Dead. But here they were, reporting for duty, in the middle of fucking winter at a Shatterdome composed almost exclusively of stone slabs. 

Crossing his arms, he tries not to shake too badly for fear that his teeth will fall free of his head. Herc slaps him on the back, arm smoothing about him and dragging him close unceremoniously. “At least Lucky’s nuclear,” he consoles with a smile, giving Scott a little shake. “Won’t freeze on patrol.”

“I hate you,” Scott wheezes, glaring at him. 

A yelp sounds behind them, followed closely by the sound of a body hitting snow hard. Cursing follows, accompanied by the frantic flail of limbs. 

They both look over their shoulders, eyes widening in alarm at the pair of blue mittens waving wildly over a barely visible knit cap that can hardly contain a head of untamed spikes of red hair. 

“Chuck!” they cry as one, turning into one another and rushing forward. “FUCK!” they shout in surprise as the ground gives way beneath them. Scott is not ashamed to admit he squealed like a lust crazed tween as his jacket got caught in the snow pocket, staying above the tenuous ground and exposing his entire naked torso to Russian deep freeze. 

Laughing surrounds them, and then Chuck is pulled free by the collar of his jacket and tucked close to a massive torso. He blinks in surprise, but is too shocked by a near death experience Australia managed to give him a pass on to actually say anything. His cheeks are redder than his hair and small clusters of snow are caught in his eyelashes, but otherwise he appears alright. 

A strong hand grabs Scott by the arm and tugs him to his feet. Herc is pulled up beside him in perfect synchronicity. 

“Welcome to Vladivostok!” Aleksis Kaidanovsky booms cheerfully. 

~~~

Chuck adamantly denies being traumatised by the event, but stubbornly refuses to climb out of bed for two days. Not even the promise of Lucky Seven’s conn-pod can lure him free of the warm pocket he’s carved out for himself by sheer ingenuity. Chuck always was a smart kid, but even Scott was impressed by the way he’d managed to figure out a body heat powered means of survival. Max had to be let out of the impromptu life raft every few hours, but the puppy was as reluctant as his human and would not be budged until he was near to bursting and would quickly do his business before turning and bolting for the safety of Chuck and warmth. 

“Your son is very good at survival,” Aleksis tells them over lunch. He’s looking at Scott when he says it, as if he’s still not quite sure which Hansen is which. It isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. Scott got used to answering to Herc’s name back when they were kids. 

“He’s Australian,” he replies, flexing his fingers around the warm sandwich of flat bread with gooey, cheesy goodness leaking from the sides. It’s not hot - nothing really is - but it’s retained some warmth and Scott’s been trying to savor it in lieu of regaining lost nerve endings. “It’s his nature.” 

Sasha nods. “It is good he is strong,” she says. “We will need strong children in the days coming.”

“Don’t think they’ve got much choice but t’ be,” Herc adds. 

Scott knocks knees with him under the table and desperately hopes neither of them fracture a bone. 

“You are not sleeping,” Aleksis points out. 

“Can’t keep warm,” Scott says. “I doze mostly.”

Herc shrugs. Scott knows sleeping’s been an issue for him for a while now. They don’t talk about it, but Herc’s never recovered from the loss of Angela and the hole she left in their lives. He’d gotten used to sharing a bed and it was colder still now. 

“Herc doesn’t need much.”

The Kaidanovskys look them over thoughtfully as if they’re a particularly intriguing puzzle that demands solving. 

“In Russia,” Aleksis says, “There are two ways for keeping warm. Guaranteed.”

The brothers raise the same brow. 

“Would you like to know the secret?”

“Mate,” Scott replies, “You tell us how we can keep our bodies from shedding limbs like frightened reptiles, I’ll give you my firstborn.” He has no intentions of ever having a first born and from the look the Kaidanovskys share, he’s fairly certain they have no intentions of accepting one. Which is all for the best really, because he’s fairly certain the PPDC would take issue with that sort of thing and he really, really loves his job. Sharp Kaiju teeth and claws, Kaiju Blue, Drift lag, hospitalizations, near death experiences and all. 

~~~

“Holy… _fuck_ ,” Scott slurs, tugging his collar open with fumbling hands. “Why’s it so fucking hooooot?” 

“You’re bent,” Herc points out. 

“You’re not any more sober ‘n me!” He tries to poke Herc in the chest to make his point, but Herc keeps swaying. Both of him. “What was in that vodka?!”

“Petrol probably.”

All the air leaves Scott’s chest in one quick exhalation. 

“C’mon,” Herc says, catching him by the arm. For a minute they sway in the hall trying to keep their balance as the floor decides to be uncooperative. 

“‘S a kaiju.”

“There’s no Kaiju, Scotty. Time for bed.”

“Beeeed,” he moans, body relaxing completely. Herc catches him under the arms and they collapse against the wall. “Gonna be nice. Sleeping. Mmmm...I love sleep.”

Herc hefts him up until they’re both upright, slinging one of Scott’s arms about his shoulders as if his legless ass can steady them enough to get them anywhere. 

“I’m good at sleep!” 

Herc grunts and shoves him a little in the small of the back. Scott twists ticklishly and they end up falling forward, saved at the last minute by Herc’s sleeve getting caught in an exhaust pipe’s vent release control valve handle. Scott - more or less dangling like a damsel on an old bodice ripper cover - immediately bursts out laughing, which doesn’t help momentum or stability when Herc tugs his arm free suddenly. They end up on the floor. Scott’ll likely feel it in his tailbone tomorrow, but the sight of Herc ass over kettle makes him laugh so hard he can’t breathe. 

They peel themselves off the floor somehow and make it back to their quarters. Scott reminds Herc the entire way that he’s never been graceful while off his face. Herc reminds him the entire way that he can always let go. 

“You know what else I’m good at?” Scott asks, struggling against his shirt. It’s managed to trap him in its fiendish confines. Never trust cotton from a sheep you’ve never met. Herc - as always - comes to the rescue. Scott’s pretty sure he’d have punched the shirt in the face if it had one. But he’s grateful he didn’t because it might have thrown up on him. 

His shirt goes flying and Scott grins up at Herc. “SEX!”

Herc drives a gentle finger against his shoulder, barely touching him, and manages to bowl him over. Scott lets out a whoosh of air and laughs as his limbs sprawl. He rolls this way and that, boots catching against the floor. 

His brother sighs and drops to his knees, pausing Scott’s silly legs and working at the clasps of his boots. 

“I really am though,” he informs him, arms splayed as he stares up at the ceiling. 

Herc makes a sound that means he’s humoring him. 

“I am so!”

“Of course you are. Now go to sleep.”

Scott kicks his legs, heels bouncing against the floor. “I am you know.”

“I know.” He shoves at Scott’s knees and he gets distracted by giggling as both legs go soaring sideways and drop in a dramatic heap. Herc pushes at his back, tugging the covers out from under him so he can tuck him in. Scott grabs him by the elbow with both hands as soon as he’s done. 

“It’s gonna get cold!” he proclaims. 

“Not if you don’t kick off all the covers.”

“It’s gonna get cold when the vodka’s gone!”

Herc frowns but doesn’t fight Scott’s clearly superior logic and allows himself to be dragged down into the bed. He pauses to unlatch and kick off his own boots and toss his jacket aside. Scott rolls onto his side, throwing a leg over his brother’s middle and catching Herc’s dogtags in the crook of his forefinger. He gives them a tug. “You’re a good soldier, Herc.”

“Go to sleep, Scott.”

Sighing, Scott snuggles close and closes his eyes. He shifts once, twice, then uses the leg about Herc to haul himself up until he’s straddling him. He’s sure it’s extra smooth because he can sort of fly now, even if his head throbs a little at being bobbed at an uncomplimentary angle. “It’s time we settled this once and for all!”

Herc opens bleary eyes, squinting at him darkly. “Settle what?” he groans. 

“Who has the bigger cock.”

His brother rolls his eyes and heaves a sigh and shoves him. Again, he barely touches him and Scott goes hurtling backward, this time taking sheets with him. “I do,” he says. “Now go the fuck to sleep.”

Scott struggles in the sea of angry bed layers until he manages to grab the waistband of Herc’s dungarees and lift himself up. “We’ve never compared standing!” he argues. “You’re probably just a shower.” He straightens somewhat in a delighted preen. “I’m a grower.” 

Herc grunts and lifts his hips abruptly. Scott releases a mildly indecent sound as he tumbles sideways. His brother catches him before he can roll off the bed, shifting to pin him against it by the arms. “If we do this, will you go the hell to sleep?”

Scott nods solemnly and makes a swearing sign. 

“Fine,” Herc sighs, releasing him. He rolls over onto his back and undoes his belt and fly. He’s no sooner pulled himself free than Scott is making halting noises. “What?” he growls, looking up at him. 

“You’re gonna cheat.”

“Scott, I’m going to be rubbing off, how the fuck can I cheat?”

“You’re gonna cheat so you can win!” Scott insists, batting Herc’s hand away. “I’ll do it.” 

Herc stares at him for a long moment, until Scott’s hand closes around him and moves down. He makes a strangled noise, body jolting slightly. 

“Ah, sorry,” Scott proclaims, feeling embarrassed. “Didn’t mean to. Off my face.” For some reason, Herc’s entire body tenses tightly when Scott takes him in his mouth. A hand closes into a fist in his hair, nearly painful in its intensity, but it doesn’t pull him off. Which is good because Scott is perfectly happy exactly where he is. He makes little pleased noises so Herc won’t wonder and maybe make him move out of concern. The fingers in his hair rake stubby nails against his scalp and it feels _amazing_. Herc moans at the same time he does and the drift is really fucking cool. Like the coolest fucking thing ever. 

His whole body lights up and he drops into his task eagerly, finesse returning as his entire being focuses on this one thing. After a while, the hand in his hair tugs his head up. Scott whines in upset, mouth open and tongue reaching. And when Herc pulls him back, he grasps him in his hand. It’s nice and slick, hot and hard and Scott really, really wants that inside him. Cheers, Herc. Always knowing what he wants. He sits up excitedly, near vibrating as his brother rips his fly open with strong hands. 

He’s distracted when Herc kisses him. Lost to the feel and taste of him. There’s a lot of rolling and at one point, Scott thinks he might suffocate in the pillows. Herc thinks so too, because he leans back, tongue slipping free of Scott’s worked loose hole and reaches out to pull the pillow free from under him. It’s handy because Scott can breathe now, but also, it’s frustrating because well, it felt so good, he couldn’t help but keep burying his face. 

He pushes back against Herc’s hips, biting his lip as Herc’s cock makes contact with his balls. His brother’s hands clasp him about the hips and pull him back up until he’s safe from suffocating and propped up on his hands. It’s then that Herc shoves into him. They come together in gasps and sharp thrusts, unable to get enough of one another. It isn’t fast per se, they take a long time locked together, exploring one another and sharing themselves. But it is hard and deep and Scott is crying by the time Herc comes in him, anchored so completely Scott can feel Herc’s balls tighten against his ass just before he releases. 

They fall into the bed panting. Crawling close and winding about one another, weak limbs wrapping up in knots of promise. Herc’s heart is still thundering under his ear when Scott loses consciousness. 

~~~

It’s the cold that wakes Scott. He flails out an arm, searching blindly. The moment his fingertips make contact, he’s tugging up and over, trapping them in the lingering heat of their passion still kindling the room from hours before. Herc blinks at him in the semi-darkness, not entirely conscious but definitely sober. His arms tighten about Scott and drag him closer. 

Scott sighs and snuggles close, letting the scent of sex and Herc and the lingering contentment in his languid limbs ease him back to sleep. 

When next they wake, it’s still not awkward. They kiss like reunited lovers, all lips and tongue, hands roaming freely and legs entangled. They shower together, where they gingerly assist one another in their morning release. Dress together teasing and playful. Head to breakfast, bodies sore, but swaying with the confidence being freshly well laid brings. 

The Kaidanovskys smile at them as they drop into the bench across from them. 

“Sleep well?” Sahsa asks. 

“Best sleep I’ve ever had,” Scott assures her. Beneath the table, Herc’s hand smooths over his thigh and back up over his groin, middle finger teasing along the line of his fly. He tries not to shiver. 

Above the table, Herc is all business, sipping from his mug with his otherwise unoccupied hand. 

The Russian pair smile knowingly. 

“Good,” Aleksis says. “Now you know for your stay.” 

“What was the second way?” Scott asks some time later. Herc’s hand is in his pants now, driving him insane, but he needs to know the answer before he gives in and forgets entirely. 

Aleksis raises a brow. 

Sasha smiles sweetly. 

“To keep warm,” he clarifies, unable to keep the breathlessness from touching his voice. 

“The second way,” she tells him. “You have learned on your own.”

“Is good thing neither of you is a woman,” Aleksis adds cheerfully. “Or nine months from now, Chuck is no longer an only child, yes?” 

Herc surprises them all by laughing. Scott can feel the vibrations through the hand still closed about him. He turns to smile at his brother who throws all pretense out the window when he leans in and kisses him. 

Well, Scott thinks - a hand about his cock and his brother’s mouth against his own - Russia may be fucking cold, but for all its ice, snow and deadly winds, he’s never been more comfortable in his entire life.


End file.
